Tales of the Third Age
by Death-of-all-Orcs
Summary: You may think you know the full story of the Fellowship, but Tolkien left some questions unanswered. Here is the real story of our favorite archer and the rest of the gang.
1. Prologue

"Gandalf," Elrond Half-Elven, Lord of Rivendell, said, "the Ring cannot stay here

Prologue

"Gandalf," Elrond Half-Elven, Lord of Rivendell, said, "the Ring cannot stay here."

Gandalf the Grey, an old friend of Elrond's, turned to the balcony and gazed out towards the courtyard. He watched as elves, men, and dwarves all entered Rivendell, most gazing around in wonder at its beauty. Disappointment crossed his aged face as he failed to spot the one being he was most anxious to see.

Elrond was still speaking, "…Who will you look to when we've gone? The Dwarves? They hide in their mountains seeking riches. They care nothing for the troubles of others."

Finally managing to keep his disappointment from showing, Gandalf turned to face the raven-haired, ageless lord of elves. "It is in Men that we must place our hope," he answered firmly.

"Men?" Elrond stated in partial disgust. "Men are weak. The race of men is failing. The blood of Númenor is all but spent, its pride and dignity forgotten. It is because of Men the Ring survives. I was there, Gandalf: I was there three thousand years ago…" He recounted the defeat of the Dark Lord Sauron to the elderly wizard. "I led Isildur into the heart of Mount Doom, where the Ring was forged, the one place it could be destroyed. It should've ended that day, but evil was allowed to endure."

As Elrond turned to look at the wizard, his eyes seemed to reveal his true age as he finished, "Isildur kept the Ring. The line of kings is broken. There is no strength left in the world of men. They're scattered, divided, leaderless."

Gandalf answered him boldly, "There is one who could unite them, one who could reclaim the throne of Gondor."

Elrond spoke bitterly, "He turned from that path long time ago. He has chosen exile."

There was a mere five minutes of silence before a shout rang out.

"Taggurung approaching!"

Relief mingled with slight worry swept through Gandalf. She was here at last!


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter I

Sorry it took so long!

**I don't own anything from ****Lord of the Rings****, or anything else written by any other author!**

Chapter I

The "Taggurung", or "Champion", loped in on a mighty white and tan mount, followed by a winged unicorn, a griffin, and two slim, cloaked figures of smaller stature on a gray steed. The Taggurung was a tall, slender being with talon-like hands, hidden by a pair of thick, black gloves made of sharkskin. He wore a dark, mottled cloak of violet hue, trimmed with silver. His clothing was made of Warg skin, colored to match the cloak. They were decorated with images of various landscapes he'd seen in Middle-earth. At his left hip was a long knife, wrapped with dark red leather from a fellbeast he'd slain decades ago; at the other hip he had a quiver of arrows with both light and dark hues and fletched with nightingale feathers. Strapped to his back were a great, blue-violet longbow and a sword in a dark, violet hued sheath. His teeth were sharp and appeared to have a violet hue to them. Along his bare back was a long line of curved spikes, sharp as daggers.

His companions were somewhat less terrifying in outer appearance. The graceful, silvery-eyed unicorn was pure white, from tooth to tail, with wings like a swan's that stretched out to fifty-four feet on either side of her and a horn that was golden in color and spiraled upward to eighteen feet in length. The fierce, hazel-eyed griffin was red in color, with golden talons and beak and had blue-black wings that stretched to sixty feet on either side. The remaining two appeared to be elven children; the female had silvery hair and fair skin, in contrast to the male's golden hair and tan skin. They were both clothed in brown with black cloaks, and each carried a knife and sling made of sharkskin.

The Taggurung looked up slightly as the alarm went out of his arrival and grimaced, his usual way of smiling. "Well, well," he commented to his comrades in a low voice, "we have a welcoming committee on its way. Fancy that."

The unicorn shook her head, chuckling as she said, "Your sense of humor never ceases to surprise me."

"Nor me," the griffin said. "We could be at the verge of being slaughtered right now and you wouldn't care a wit, eh, Flame-elf?"

"Thank ye both kindly, mateys." The Taggurung dismounted. His horse, a white mare with a tan neck, turned her head to him. "I know, Dawn-Wraith I know," he said with a laugh, "No stall for you." She snorted as if to say, _Of course._

The children dismounted from their own mount, gray _Rauchs_ (known in Common as "Ash"), as the Taggurung looked about, muttering, "I wonder why the Wanderer wanted us to come here of all places."

"We wonder that too, scum." He whirled around, arrow on bowstring, to face a full-grown, blonde-haired, blue-eyed elven male with his own arrow pointed at the Taggurung. The movement caused the hood of his cloak to fall back revealing his tattoo-decorated face, arched ears and filthy, silver hair, which was pulled back into three braids which came together behind his head. The elf examined the other archer coldly, at first. Then, a thought struck him and he stared in confusion at the warrior opposite him.

"You… you're a… a…" he began, but was interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Ah, Orc-Death, you're here at last!" Gandalf walked towards them, followed by Elrond and some other elves, who all wanted to see what the commotion was about. He continued, "I see you've already met Prince Legolas."

"If you could count having an arrow in your face as a greeting," Orc-Death replied coldly, without sign of slacking the grip she had on her own arrow.

"You're _friends_ with this murderer?" Elrond asked Gandalf in disbelief.

"We've met more than once," the wizard answered pleasantly, "one of most loyal comrades in Middle-earth, she is. Now do put your bows up, both of you." They did so; Legolas rather reluctantly, Orc-Death was emotionless. "Now then," Gandalf said, as if nothing had happened, "Orc-Death, I'd like that promised word with you before you decide to flit off and find Gnos."

"I don't '_flit'_," she growled, but followed him nonetheless. Behind her, her comrades stood rigidly, as if in shock; all except Dawn-Wraith, who simply trotted after the duo.

Arwen, daughter of Elrond, came running up to the crowd. Elrond briefed her on the circumstances. She then proceeded to shoo everyone away from the visitors. "Come now, use your sense; they don't want to be gaped at like trout! Go on with your duties." They left reluctantly. She turned to the guests.

"Welcome to Rivendell, friends," she said, "You'll have to excuse them, they don't get this much excitement often."

"Th… thanks?" the girl managed.

"Legolas I know already, but what might your names be?" Arwen asked.

The unicorn recovered her voice suddenly and answered for them, "I'm Glitter Like Stars On Water, daughter of Leaves That Fall In Autumn, Glitter or Glit for short. My feathered friend, here, is Fierce-Talon, daughter of Sharp-Claw. This," she gestured to the girl with a wing, "is Hwesta, _Vrird_, Sky-Elf, Wind That Holds Wings In Sky, and other names besides. And this," she nodded to the boy, "is Adanion, _Rassrarchas_, Man-Elf, Man Who Walks In Stars Of Old, and other names besides."

"And this is _Rauchs_," Adanion piped up, pointing to the horse, "that's 'Ash' in Common Speech."

The elf-maiden smiled. "Pleased to meet you, for my part."

Legolas, still glaring in the direction taken by the wizard and Taggurung, asked coldly, "What do you call _it_?"

Fierce-Talon glared warningly at him before replying, "_She_ has too many names to count. Let's see…" she thought for a moment, then said, "there's Death of all Orcs, obviously, and there's Flame-Elf, and, hmmm…"

The others started throwing in names: "And Skie…"

"And _Chrystallopaire_…"

"Not to mention Hunter That Flies On Steel Wings of Violet."

"Oh, and Dernhelm."

"And Meg."

"Don't forget Corime or…"

"Did you say 'Corime'?" A passing elf stared intently at the, urgency in his voice. He wasn't as tall as the other elves and was red-haired with hazel eyes and dark skin. His palms each had a red diamond shape on it.

Legolas snapped at him, "Didn't you hear… oh, it's you, Linte."

"Who are you?" Adanion asked the stranger.

Legolas spoke up before he could answer. "A scoundrel and an outcast for communicating with the enemy."

Hwesta snarled at the elf-prince, "He didn't ask _you_ did he?"

The strange elf, tears forming in his eyes, said, "Once, I was a warrior of honor to a great leader. Now, I am nobody because my life was saved by a warrioress with no memory of where she came from or who she is."

Adanion thought about this for a moment, then gasped. "Don't tell me you're…"

The elf held out his hands, palms up, and said, "My name is Linte, and Swift, and _Strarlstei _Wild-blood, former friend and companion to the Creature of Resistance in Middle-earth."


	3. Chapter 2

**I don't own anything from anyone's novels or Peter Jackson's movies. **

**And, for those of you who don't like my story, you don't have to read it. As for Orc-Death being a "Mary-Sue", I didn't even know what the word meant when I started writing this.**

(From this point on, I'll be putting in different languages.

"_**Blahblahblah**_" Draconic

"_Blahblahblah_" Sindarin

"**Blahblahblah**" Dwarvish

Chapter 2

Gandalf and Orc-Death weren't seen until dinner, when Gandalf told the whole of Rivendell that she would be part of the council. Needless to say, most of the inhabitants were not pleased. Her meeting with Swift (as Linte preferred to be called) was a joyous one. They proceeded to exchange news about what had happened since they last parted, almost eighty-two years before.

"Any luck with your past?" Swift asked at one point during their conversation. Legolas, who was sitting nearby trying to ignore them, overheard this and began to eavesdrop on them despite himself.

"None," Orc-Death replied sadly. "Not so much as a whisper of a missing she-child anywhere."

"Hmm," he said around a mouthful of meat. "No one's told you about the missing twins from Lorien?"

"No. What twins?"

"You remember that marchwarden Gorsebranch was telling you about? Haldir?" She nodded. "Well, his kits went missing almost a century back. The first was his daughter, Mirriel, at one month of age, then was his son, Morereg, at five years. I say, _mellon_, are you alright?" The Taggurung had clutched her head suddenly as a sharp pain whipped through her, as if something was trying to escape a prison in the foggy part of her mind.

_So close yet so far,_ she thought as she said aloud, "I'm fine, matey. I'm fine."

He gave her an odd look, but didn't press the matter.

After dinner, Legolas went with Elrond's twin sons, Elladan and Elrohir, to the Hall of Fire, where they could relax and talk. Some sang, but he didn't really pay attention to them, not even when Bilbo (an elf-friend who so happened to be "Gnos" to one Taggurung) chanted a song for Earendil. He and the twins were busy talking about Gandalf's "friend" when a quiet voice sang from across the room, stunning them to silence.

_Where is the land I come from?_

_Who lives where I was born?_

_Why does my memory start with a storm?_

_What if I have a family somewhere far from the sea?_

_Could there be someone there missing me?_

_Tell me why I'm not sleeping and my heart is leaping inside me?_

_Could this be one of those times when your feelings decide?_

_I need to know these answers._

_I need to find my way._

_Seize my tomorrow,_

_Learn my yesterday._

_I need to take these chances._

_Let all my feelings show._

_Can't tell what's waiting._

_Still I need to go._

_I need to know!_

_Life is a sea I'm sailing:_

_Riding the winds of time._

_Looking to find the course that is mine._

_Striving to find direction,_

_Starting to understand:_

_Every wave's a part of the plan._

_I'll keep living & loving & leaving the doubting behind me._

_Home is a star I will follow wherever I go._

_I need to know these answers._

_I need to find my way._

_Seize my tomorrow,_

_Learn my yesterday._

_I need to take these chances._

_Let all my feelings show._

_Can't tell what's waiting._

_Still I need to go._

_I need to know!_

_I need to know!_

They wheeled around, only to face the singer with disbelief: the Death-of-all-Orcs.

**The song is courtesy of ****Barbie as the Island Princess**** and Melissa Lyons.**

**Hey! What can I say? It fits her.**


	4. Chapter 3

**I don't own anything from anyone's novels or Peter Jackson's movies. **

**And, for those of you who don't like my story, you don't have to read it. As for Orc-Death being a "Mary-Sue", I didn't even know what the word meant when I started writing this.**

(From this point on, I'll be putting in different languages.)

"_**Blahblahblah**_" = Draconic

"_Blahblahblah_" = Sindarin

"**Blahblahblah**" = Dwarvish

Chapter 3

Orc-Death gazed around at the shocked looks that graced the faces of most of the onlookers. She struggled to avoid grinning at the sight of the narrow-minded sharp-ear that had "greeted" her so "gentlemanly" at the gate that morning. Swift beckoned to her from where he was seated by Bilbo, her travelling comrades and some dwarves from the Lonely Mountain. She managed to prowl over to them and sit down gracefully alongside Bilbo before she cracked. Within seconds, they were all laughing helplessly.

"Did you see the look on Legolas' face?" Swift gasped out between laughs.

"Of course," Orc-Death managed. "That was just priceless. _**Remind me to hold that against him, matey**_." The last bit sounded to all but Hwesta and Adanion like a choked combination of a snarl and a hiss.

"_**But of course, friend**_." he answered, still sniggering weakly.

When they finally got themselves under control, Gandalf arrived and suggested that they sleep. As Orc-Death left the room, he whispered, "It's good to hear you laugh again, child."

The next morning, Orc-Death and Swift didn't show up to breakfast. Legolas and the twins, now fully over the previous night's shock, started whispering quietly to each other.

"_Where do you think she is_?" Elladan asked.

"_Maybe she went walking and killed herself, or is that too much to hope for_?" Legolas inserted.

"I'll say so," Bilbo said as he passed them. "She's a Wildblood after all."

Elrohir spoke up. "I heard Linte mention that as part of his name. What's a Wildblood?"

The elderly hobbit smiled mischievously. "You'll see."

The warning bell for the council rang and everyone who had been invited seated his- or herself in a chair. They still hadn't arrived. Just as someone was about to suggest starting without them, one of the dwarves, an older one by the name of Gloin, was seen gazing skyward and heard murmuring, "**Three, two, one**…"

Then the floor shook as two tremendous roars were heard. Legolas' head flew upward in fright and his eyes widened as two dragons, one with gray scales and the other with blue-violet ones, dove toward the council.


	5. Chapter 4

**I don't own anything from anyone else. If you recognize it from somewhere else, it's not mine.**

**And, for those of you who don't like my story, you don't have to read it. As for Orc-Death being a "Mary-Sue", I didn't even know what the word meant when I started writing this.**

(From this point on, I'll be putting in different languages.)

"_**Blahblahblah**_" = Draconic

"_Blahblahblah_" = Sindarin

"**Blahblahblah**" = Dwarvish

Chapter 4

The violet dragon started shifting in midair as it plunged down, the gray one close behind. It jerked back, landing on both hind legs and the one front leg, but they weren't legs at all! Instead, walking gracefully to her seat, was Orc-Death. Swift, who had turned out to be the gray dragon, was right behind her.

"Our _sincerest_ apologies for being late," the former Taggurung said as she seated herself, not sounding very sincere at all.

Gandalf and the dwarves were the only ones even cracking a grin; everyone else was either shocked or just plain terrified. Gandalf shook his head as smiled and commented, "Swift and Chrys-tallopaire Wildblood, was it necessary to frighten everyone out of their wits?"

"Nope," she said cheerfully, nodding in Legolas' direction. "Just him." The dwarves struggled to hide grins as Legolas glared daggers at her.

Elrond rose to his feet and all fell silent. "Strangers from distant lands," he began with a cold glare in the Taggurung's direction, which she easily ignored, "friends of old, you've been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle-earth stands upon the brink of destruction, none can escape it: unite or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom." He turned to a young hobbit seated next to Gandalf and commanded, "Bring forth the Ring, Frodo."

_Ring?_ she thought curiously as Frodo stepped forward and deposited a small ring on the pedestal amid nervous whispered conversations. _Oh, __**that**__ Ring,_ she thought vehemently. One of the Men stood shakily and spoke of a dream he had had that seemed to foretell doom of some sort. As he spoke, he started to reach for the Ring.

"Boromir," Elrond began, but Gandalf was quicker and began to speak words in Black Speech. Pain ricocheted inside Orc-Death's head, causing her to double over, clasping her head as if to hold it together as forgotten memories revealed themselves to her before vanishing again. She came to in time to hear "…Give Gondor the weapon of the Enemy. Let us use it against them."

"You cannot wield it; none of us can," another of the Men, who seemed to Orc-Death's eyes as one of the Dunadain Rangers of the North, rebuked him. "The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master."

The first Man, who was apparently called 'Boromir', sneered slightly. "And what would a Ranger know of this matter?"

The Elf 'Legolas' stood angrily. "This is no mere Ranger: he is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance."

The Taggurung raised an eyebrow in interest as Boromir said, "Aragorn? _This_ is Isildur's heir?"

"And heir to the throne of Gondor," Legolas finished.

Aragorn lifted a negating hand. "_Havo dad, Legolas_."

The Elf did so with reluctance as Boromir said, "Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king."

Gandalf spoke up. "Aragorn is right: we cannot use it."

Elrond rose. "You have only one choice: the Ring must be destroyed."

"Then what are we waiting for?" this was snarled by one of the Dwarves, Gimli, son of Gloin from the Lonely Mountain. He grabbed an axe and, before anyone could stop him, swung it at the Ring with a bellow. It rebounded, shattering the axe and flinging the Dwarf backward. Orc-Death leaped from her seat and caught him before he hit the ground, helping him back into his seat as Elrond said, "The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli son of Gloin, with any craft that we here possess. The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom, only there can it be unmade. It must taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came." He watched as Orc-Death resettled herself with a more or less Elven grace before finishing, "One of you must do this."

Dead silence. It didn't last long before Boromir spoke. "One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its Black Gates are guarded by more than just orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep, and the Great Eye is ever watchful…" Orc-Death zoned him out and started speaking with Swift in Draconic as quietly as was possible. They let their thoughts rejoin the Council in time to see Gimli leap from his chair, snarling at Legolas, who was on his feet glaring at the Dwarf. "I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf! Never trust an Elf!" This last bit was shouted over the ensuing argument.

Orc-Death leaped to her feet and joined in. "I agree with you on that final comment, Gimli, though only partially."

Legolas swiftly rounded on her. "And how would you know anything about Elves other than they're enemies of your commander?"

"What do you know about me other than my name and every rumor imaginable?" she shot back.

"I know enough."

"This is why I prefer Dwarves over Elves."

"What? That they're as berserk as you?"

"They aren't so swift to judge, _Elf_!"

"Why you…"

"I will take it!" Everyone turned to stare in surprise at Frodo. "I will take the Ring to Mordor, though I do not know the way."

Gandalf walked over to his side. "I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, so long as it is yours to bear."

Aragorn, who hadn't joined in the full-scale argument, stood, walked over to Frodo, and knelt, saying, "If by my life or death I can protect you, I will. You have my sword."

Legolas, Gimli, and Boromir stepped forward and offered their own services. "Here!" Another hobbit, called Sam, darted over to stand next to Frodo. "Mr. Frodo's not going anywhere without me."

"No indeed," Elrond said with a smile, "it is hardly possible to separate you even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not." This seemed to be the cue for two more hobbits to come racing up to join them, insisting on coming themselves. They were followed by a very sheepish looking Elf who asked to join them. "I'm a good healer," was all he said before moving next to Legolas.

Gandalf turned to Orc-Death. "Orc-Death, I'm quite surprised that you weren't the first one up here. I haven't known you to pass up a challenge yet."

She looked first at him, then Elrond, then Frodo, to whom she said, "I have nothing to offer you that you do not have already have with you other than what little luck I live by now. I'm afraid that will have to do, if you'll have me."

Frodo looked at her for a moment, as if trying to place her face, then his eyes lit up and he said, "If I'd remembered you earlier I would have begged for you to come, Meg." She smirked slightly before moving to stand alongside Gimli.

Elrond looked at them all curiously before saying, "Eleven companions. So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring."

The hobbit named Pippin smiled. "Great! Where are we going?" Orc-Death pretended to sneeze into her sleeve to keep from laughing.


	6. Chapter 5

**I don't own anything from anyone else. If you recognize it from somewhere else, it's not mine. And I also apologize for any confusion I might be putting you through: this story has been in my head since I first developed a crush on the elf, so, I have a lot of thoughts to let out.**

"_**Blahblahblah**_" = Draconic

"_Blahblahblah_" = Sindarin

"**Blahblahblah**" = Dwarvish

Blahblahblah = translation (makes things easier, right?)

**(From this point on, I'll be putting in Wildblood ****age**** terms. Any other Clan-related things/phrases will be explained as they appear.)**

**Hatchlings**** = 14 years and younger**

**Fledglings = 15 through 49**

**Little Ones = 50 through 99**

**Lords/Ladies = 100 through 999**

**Masters = 1000 years and above**

Chapter 5

Orc-Death managed to not react to the hostile stares she received from the majority of those present at dinner later that evening, choosing, instead, to watch her own party, especially the two youngsters she had grown so fond of. They were currently telling the hatchling sharp-ears ('sharp-ears' being Orc-Death's fond name for elves) about how she had fought at the Battle of Five Armies, winning it almost single-handedly (or so they claimed).

"… he swung his axe at the dwarf, but Chrys was too fast for him." Adanion was saying, "She sliced at 'im with her knife, cutting down about ten more while she was at it! And then…"

"Wasn't she scared?" one of the girls interrupted.

"Chrys? Scared? Heck, no! Nothing can scare her! She's the best dang fighter in Middle earth, and that's a fact. 'Specially not when she's under the Bloodwrath's influence. Now as I was saying…"

"What's Bloodwrath?" the elflings wanted to know.

"Well, Bloodwrath is…"

" Let me put it this way, kits:" Orc-Death answered this time. "Imagine hating someone so much that your eyes turn red, you start seeing everything except that person as a fog, and you'll keep on fighting until you reach them, even if you're injured almost to the point of death." Gasps reached this explanation.

"I'm sure that you ended up in that condition plenty of times, _lhugiel_ daughter of serpents." Legolas muttered. Some of the elves started sniggering, but stopped instantly as the former Taggurung wheeled about with blazing eyes.

"You overstep your boundaries, _sharp-ear_," she hissed. Elrond started to rise, but was pulled back by Gandalf, who shook his head at him.

"You have no right to place boundaries upon me, _Taggurung_." By this time, they were both on their feet glaring at each other.

"If you have a problem with a past no one can change, then you had best grow up and live with it. I have no patience for such things." She turned and began to walk out, but halted at the elf prince's next words.

"You speak highly of yourself so as to gain forgiveness you have not earned! Any pity I might have given you was lost when you DRAGGED MY BROTHER'S CORPSE TO MY HOME AS A TROPHY!" He saw her grow stiff and continued to speak in an attempt to provoke her into a reaction. "I'm quite sure he put up a good fight, don't think I did not see the fresh injuries on your body that day. If you hadn't run, I would have given you a few more to nurse while you hid. Don't you remember?"

She did, with a vengeance:

~ She approached his home with his body, as she had promised him she would. She dismounted and placed him gently on the ground, then stood, calling out hesitantly, "I have returned a bold fighter to you. He died nobly…" She never finished because one of the watching elves opened fire on her with a mournful cry. Her last shreds of courage failed her, forcing her to flee as she heard the elf's oath of vengeance against the Taggurung who had caused his brother's death. ~

She turned slowly to face him, horror stamped on her face for the first time in her life. "That… was _you_?"

He smirked triumphantly as he replied, "Aye. That was _I_. And I plan to finish the Taggurung off once and for all! You have no idea how long and hard I have trained to do so. Come on then! Fight me, if you dare!" He drew one of his white knives. The rest watched with anticipation, waiting for Orc-Death to draw her own knife and attack.

She simply stood there. She slowly began to shake, as if her legs couldn't hold her up. "I… I… I'm so sorry," she whimpered. The onlookers stared at her questioningly. Legolas had a puzzled look on his face that turned into shock as she continued, "Gorsebranch… I… failed you."

Orc-Death, for the second time in her life, turned and ran from a challenge issued by the brother of her dead comrade.


End file.
